


Losing What You Never Knew You Had

by PistachioWritings



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Canon, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PistachioWritings/pseuds/PistachioWritings
Summary: Only one person really noticed when Jonah killed EliasORThere's a reason why Michael was fucked up enough to get eaten by the Spiral
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Michael Shelley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74





	Losing What You Never Knew You Had

It had been nearly two centuries, but Jonah Magnus still had not perfected the art of smoothly transferring his consciousness between bodies. The first time had been unpleasant for both him and the man whose body he claimed for his own; he’d gotten himself killed within the first few weeks, which was painful, but more of an inconvenience than anything else. The second time was easier, but it didn’t last much longer than a few years, because he’d been unable to fully suppress the original owner’s consciousness. Eventually the occasional ‘out of character’ outbursts started making people suspicious that something was wrong with him, so he killed him and moved on to a third body.

This and every subsequent body he considered to be a success. Depending on the strength of each of his victims, it took varying lengths of time to gain full control over the body, but he became skilled in disguising the struggle and making it seem more or less natural to the casual observer. Jonah even managed to maintain the position of Head of his Institute since its founding, excepting the short period of time in the beginning when he was still finding his footing in his new feet.

Whenever he got the sense that his current body was wearing thin, he would appoint a successor. He’d choose somebody he knew wouldn’t be missed, somebody inconsequential even by the standards of the nobodies he hired for his archival staff. Somebody whose body he could take over unnoticed.

This time he chose Elias Bouchard, a weed-smoking college dropout with no real potential. And Elias would have been the perfect choice if not for his overly concerned best friend.

****

Michael was the first and possibly only person to notice when Elias started acting strangely. At first, he chalked it up to just the trauma of James Wright’s death. Elias had been close to the former Head of the Institute, even though nobody could figure out why.

Elias, who had always been so laid back and light-hearted, had become serious, absurdly businesslike, and had started ignoring all the people he’d used to be friends with. Not that that number was very high, but it bothered Michael. Why would his friend just drop him like that? He was acting so contrary to his usual self, like he’d become a different person.

Michael had erroneously expected Elias to reach out to him whenever something was wrong. It had happened before; they were closer to each other than anybody else in the archives, or at least that’s what Michael thought. But Elias didn’t say a word to him. When Michael asked about it, when he offered his support in what he knew must a difficult time for his friend, Elias only brushed him off and spouted weak excuses or claimed that he was fine. He didn’t even look him in the eye anymore.

Weeks passed, and Michael waited. He waited for Elias to come back to him. He had been persistent in his attempts to show Elias that he was there for him, he might even have been annoying about it. But nothing changed. He didn’t hear a word, nothing to assure him that the Elias he knew was still there.

He was on the verge of giving up and accepting that his friend had changed for good when Elias approached him late one night in tears. He was shaking and his eyes were wild with what looked like terror. Nobody else was around.

“Michael! Oh, god, Michael, thank god you’re still here.” Elias embraced him tightly and unexpectedly. “I don’t have much time. I-”

“Wha-” Michael interrupted, “Elias what are you talking about?”

Elias’ breathing was labored and his whole body looked tense, like he was in a silent battle Michael couldn’t see. “I don’t-,” he gasped, “I can feel him in my head, Michael. He won’t let me go. He, he-”

“Slow down! Who’s in your head?” Michael could feel the panic making his throat catch. He took Elias by the shoulders and searched his eyes as if he might be able to see his friend’s invisible assailant. “Elias talk to me!”

“I, I can’t, I don’t know who he is!” He turned his face to look in Michael’s eyes, tears rolling slowly down his cheeks. He grabbed Michael’s wrists weakly, evidently too exhausted to do anything stronger. “I’m sorry, Michael,” he said, reaching an unsteady hand to Michael’s cheek. “He’s going to kill me, I can feel it. I just,” he choked, “I just wanted to tell you that I..”

Elias shuddered. “I…” His grip on Michael’s arm tightened and his face contorted in a disconcerting mixture of terror and rage. He made a small sound like a yelp of fear cut off before it could fully escape the lungs.

Suddenly he relaxed and looked down with a private laugh. “I apologize, Michael.” His voice was steady and measured where before it sounded like he could barely form words through his fear. He brushed off his jacket and looked back up with a satisfied smirk. Had his eyes always been so green? “I seem to have forgotten myself. Do forgive me; it won’t happen again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

With that, he nodded and left the room. Michael’s head was spinning as he watched him go. “What?” he asked the empty air, confused.

****

Jonah walked back to his office, furious that he had lost control long enough to let Elias find someone to talk to. He had been doing so well, but he wasn’t surprised by the slip. He was just grateful that he’d been able to regain control before Elias said too much. Besides, it had only been Michael. The poor boy had heart but was almost completely harmless. The only threat he posed was the possibility that he might tell someone else what he saw.

What concerned Jonah the most about Elias’ little outburst was what he was going to say right before Jonah took back over. He was about to tell Michael he loved him. The thought disgusted Jonah. It was rare that he learned something so significant about a vessel after possessing them, but Elias had never told a soul about what were apparently his true feelings for Michael. Jonah was a voyeur, not a mindreader. There was no way he could have known, and it worried him what might have happened if Michael had found out.

Especially since it seemed Michael might have returned the feelings. He was constantly tailing him, insisting on conversations that Jonah didn’t want to have. He needed to get rid of him, but another death so soon after his own would be suspicious. He didn’t want to expose his powers to anybody before he could plausibly explain them either, but if he couldn’t convince Michael to leave him alone, he might have to.

He continued for the next few weeks to try to shrug Michael off politely. He denied any memory of their conversation, he told him he felt fine, he tried to give the impression that he didn’t care any more about him than was appropriate for their new professional relationship. ‘Elias’ was Michael’s boss now. It would be inappropriate for them to continue their friendship until the new normal had been established.

Jonah was beginning to run out of excuses.

“Fine!” Michael had cornered him in his office, wanting to know what had happened, when Jonah finally reached the end of his patience. “You’re right,” he hissed. “The Elias you knew is dead. I didn’t want it to come to this, but you give me no other choice.”

Michael stumbled backwards, clearly not having expected the angry outburst. “What?” His voice shook.

Jonah grabbed Michael by the front of his sweater and pulled him sharply down so they were eye to eye. “I said he’s dead,” he snarled. Michael whimpered and cried and tried to get away, but Jonah held him firmly, watching with grim satisfaction as the horrible information he was pouring into Michael’s mind brought tears to the boy’s eyes. Visions of the terrible things that the fears had done to Michael's family and friends, all the little tragedies that had unconsciously driven him to work at the Institute, all implanted in his memory in sickening clarity. 

“Make it stop,” Michael cried, struggling weakly. “Elias, please. Make it stop.”

Jonah complied and stopped his flow of awful knowledge. He let go of Michael’s sweater and the tall child crumpled to the ground in a pile of quivering limbs and hot tears. “Now leave me alone. You will never tell a soul what you know and you will do exactly what you’re told unless you want me to show you more. Do you understand?”

Michael nodded silently, breathlessly. Jonah was convinced, but something told him to say something else. A memory of emotion from the remaining pieces of Elias’ consciousness.

“He loved you, you know.”

Michael looked up from his place on the floor. “Really?”

“Yes, very much,” Jonah said, striding to the window. “Only, he never had the courage to tell you. Sad, really, how pathetic he was.”

“He wasn’t pathetic!” Michael was indignant, though the words were muffled by his tears. “He was my friend.” This time he was quieter, his words more private. Then, after a long pause filled only with Michael’s soundless sobbing, he continued in a depressingly meek voice. “Why did you have to tell me that?”

Jonah was silent for a moment, watching the cars pass beneath them. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I suppose I just thought you might like to know.”

****

Michael was crushed. His closest friend was gone, replaced by a stranger who wore his face. He couldn’t breathe when he thought about it. He couldn’t walk the halls of the Institute without remembering the love he’d lost before he ever knew he’d had it. 

For a while his coworkers gossiped about him behind his back, saying he’d changed, that he’d lost his fire. He knew they were right, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He simply did what he had to to survive. He avoided the gaze of the thing that pretended to be Elias, he followed the instructions of his superiors to a T. He suffered the nightmares that had been forcibly planted in his mind, and he said not a word about any of it to anybody for fear of further punishment. Michael was made a slave, but he carried on because he didn’t know what else to do.


End file.
